#not a request just a thought I had

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels

Description: Single dad Miguel who replaced himself in a new universe meets his daughter's favorite teacher, you, who just happens to have a shitty boyfriend and doesn't yet know how much the O'Hara family wants you to stick around

Pt 2

I cracked y'all, and I blame TikTok

“Ms. Y/N, watch me, watch me!” Gabi calls, waving her arms in the air to catch your attention.

“I’m watching, go ahead.” You encourage her, smiling brightly when she does a successful cartwheel, her hair spilling from the loose braid one of her classmates had done for her during quiet reading.

You know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorite students, you tell each and every one of your students that you don’t have favorites, that you adore all of them equally. But Gabriella O’Hara holds a special place in your heart.

“Did you see, did you see?” She asks excitedly, running up to you, dark curls tumbling wildly around her shoulders.

You kneel down, and brush the hair back from her face, still smiling brightly. “I did, that was amazing, who taught you that?”

“My dad, he helped me practice.” She says, giving you a toothy grin, one front tooth missing from where she’d knocked it out eating an apple yesterday.

A tear-filled lunch that had been until you reminded her that now the Tooth Fairy would come visit her. The idea of a sparkly fairy leaving her money in exchange for her tooth dried her tears quickly, and soon enough she was proudly showing off her lost tooth (safely contained in a Ziploc bag) to anyone who would listen.

“Well, it seems like your dad is a very good teacher, then.” You say, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before her friends dragged her back onto the playground.

You stood back up and rejoined the other first grade teachers.

“She’s adorable.” Janey says, nodding at Gabi who was playing tag with a few other girls.

Janey taught in the classroom next to yours. You started teaching at the same time, but she’d been hired at Steve Rodgers Elementary a year before you. Janey was the first friend you made when you got hired, and you soon became close friends inside and outside school.

“She’s so well-behaved, too; I wish I knew who her mom was, so I could thank her.” You say, a slight grimace on your face, when you watched two boys from your class begin to shove each other.

You called out to them, and they stopped, giving you guilty looks before running towards the swing sets.

“There’s no mom, she walked out on Gabi and her father after she was born.” Melissa says, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her kids.

Melissa was a senior teacher at Rodgers Elementary. A tough love works the best teacher with the confidence of a god, and a nose for gossip like you couldn’t believe.

“Oh, that’s so sad.” You say, your heart hurting for the sweet little girl who always wanted to sit next to you during story time. Gabi had told you about her dad many times, but never mentioned her mom, you just assumed she was away for work often, or that they didn’t have many things in common.

You looked at Gabi, watching as she helped one of her friends tie their shoes. Sitting beside them and patiently demonstrating on her own sneakers. How could anyone walk away from her?

“It is, but her dad…he’s hot, I’ve seen him in the pickup line, he’s like a male model or something.” Melissa says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You gave her an incredulous look. “Melissa! That’s a parent you’re talking about.”

She shrugs. “Hey, I’m married, I’m not gonna do anything, but one of you could.”

Janey turns her head to hide her laughter, and you smack her arm. “Janey, hitting on a child’s parent is wildly inappropriate, besides I have Todd.”

Melissa snorts, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Todd was not a popular man around the school, especially after what he pulled on your birthday.

The bell rings signaling the end of recess and your kids begin to line up, ending your conversation as the three of you are pulled in different directions.

There’s a knock at your door, and you look up from grading papers, to see Janey. “Hey y/n, Gabi’s father is here to see you?”

You shoot her a look of confusion and begin to tidy up your desk, then stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your baby pink dress. “Oh, yeah, sure, let him in.”

Janey disappears, and the space is filled by a giant of a man. He towers over the desks, making them look even tinier than they already were. His shoulders are massive, his biceps you swear are bigger than your thighs, though you could be exaggerating, but you’re honestly not sure, and when he fixes those dark brown eyes on you, and suddenly the floor beneath you feels unsteady.

“Mr. O’Hara, how can I help you?” You manage to get out, motioning for him to take a seat in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand.” He says curtly. His voice is deep, settling in your bones, the faint whisper of an accent, and confidence behind his words makes you nervous for a moment, then you recognize the feeling, not nerves…something else, something much more inappropriate.

“Oh—okay, is there something you need, is Gabi okay?” You ask, realizing she isn’t in the classroom with him.

“She’s fine, just sitting outside with her book.” He explains, his eyes piercing straight through you.

“Margaret and Margarita, right? Your daughter an exceptional reader, in both English and Spanish, you should be very proud.” You say, giving him a smile, hoping the compliment will soften his expression and make it seem like he didn’t want to murder you.

Melissa was right, Mr. O’Hara was gorgeous. With a strong jawline, high cheekbones, a mess of thick dark hair, and perfectly formed lips, all tapering down to the body of an Adonis, clothed in a white button up that stretched across his broad chest, and black slacks that clung to his muscled legs like it was their job and rent was due next week. But his expression was flat, his eyes cold, his stance rigid.

“Why did you lie to my daughter?” He asks flatly, looking down at you, as if you were a bug on his windshield.

You blink up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.”

An indignant expression flashed across your face before you could stop it, and you saw Mr. O’Hara’s lip twitch. “I’m not apologizing, I’m asking for clarification.”

“You told Gabi that the Tooth Fairy was going to visit her, I wasn’t going to do the Tooth Fairy , she doesn’t need false hope.” He snaps, leaning forward slightly, towering over you.

The hair on your arms stands up, but you brush it off as a stab of guilt goes through you. He was a single dad, maybe he couldn’t afford such frivolous traditions. “Mr. O’Hara, if this is a financial issue, I am so sorry. I should’ve tried to comfort her another way, my sincerest apologizes.”

“This isn’t a financial issu—comfort her?” He stops midsentence, his brows furrowing.

“She was upset because she lost her teeth, it’s her first one, a ton of kids get a little scared, but the promise of a reward usually clears those tears right up.” You tell him, holding your hands up in a pacifying way as you talk.

His eyes dart down to your hands, then back to your eyes, lingering for a moment on your lips. “I didn’t—Gabi didn’t tell me she was scared.”

“She was probably a little embarrassed. She talks all the time about how brave you are and how she wants to be just like you when she grows up.”

His expression softens.

“I actually—”you turn to rifle through your desk until you find Gabi’s latest assignment—“have something for you.”

He takes the paper from you, and you can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf yours, his tanned skin is scattered with small scars, and his calloused fingertips brush against yours. “What is this?”

“I had the kids draw a picture of their hero and then write a few sentences about why that person is their hero. I think she was one of a few who didn’t draw Spiderman.” You laugh softly.

He cradles the paper and a soft smile spreads across his face as he reads her writing under his breath. “Porque mi papá lucha contra los monstruos en mi armario.”

“I had to look that one up, my Spanish is terrible.” You admit sheepishly, watching as he reads her words over and over again.

“Thank you, for this, and for comforting Gabi.” He says, folding the paper carefully and sliding it in his pocket.

“Of course, I love Gabi, she’s such a pleasure to have in class.”

He looks at you, really looks at you, and you’re struck by how similar he and Gabi are. They have the same nose, the same almost curls that frame their faces, and when he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side you almost burst out laughing. You can’t count how many times you’ve seen Gabi do that exact same thing.

“You know Gabi talks a lot about you, how pretty you are, she was right.” His voice is low, smooth, and sends a jolt through you. Then he takes his leave, with you standing there stunned, wondering what the hell just happened to you.

Eternal Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[appallinnballin]

waves!! hiiii so i wanted to ask if you could perhaps like, draw N or like J from murderdrones bc i love them and i think they would look so cool in your style!!

i love your art sm, byeee

hiiiiiiiiii i just did J but hope that is acceptable ^_^

[martyryo]

I was abt to give up on this until I remembered who she is

[natasha-in-space]

I think not nearly enough people comprehend just how messed up Rika's and V's relationships truly was, actually. It is so easy to get hyperfocused on the big climax of their toxic obsession: the cult, the physical violence, and the secrets. But, like... You ever actually sit down and think about the sheer fact that V looked at Rika: a hurt, traumatized girl, terrified of being her true self, desperate for love she didn't even have a clear idea of in her own mind, safe for some very vague feeling she deemed to be 'love', and... He saw beauty in it. He was never malicious about it, nor did he even realize it fully, not until MC came into his life and pushed him into reevaluating his own worth as well as his views on what love truly is. But, at the time, he saw all that hidden pain and trauma in her, and he saw beauty in it. He was intrigued by it. It fascinated him. He desired to transform it into something even more stunning with his own two hands, analogous to an artist fixing his next big masterpiece. And she was his masterpiece. One he would paint and bend and mold into something he knew he wanted to achieve. It wasn't even a want, it was a craving. Not really knowing that he was just so racked with guilt and self-hatred after his mother's death, that he was merely trying to prove himself to no one but his own troubled and scared mind. To prove to himself that he could be an artist, and that he really could love like the sun. That he could save someone this time around, instead of losing them. Because, truth is, he could never be an artist, not in the way his soul truly longed for.

Rika was both his muse and his creation at the same time.

That's why he never encouraged her to get the help she desperately needed if she didn't want to do it herself. That's why he never got involved in any extreme ways until it became far too difficult for him to handle. That's why he told her time and time again that she was beautiful and perfect just the way she is, even when she herself would doubt and be deeply disturbed by his eager willingness to sink into the deepest of lows for her.

In a way, neither of them truly knew each other. It's a fact that they cared for each other at one point in time. But they didn't see each other as equal individuals to grow and change alongside. For Rika, V was her sun she adored and loathed all the same. He was not a person, he was just an anchor that kept her steady and a cruel reminder of all she could never be. For V, Rika was his canvas to pour his locked away feelings onto. She was not a person, she was a living proof of his ability to create and love in a way he desperately craved.

And in the end, that destroyed and scarred both of them. Not only them, but also many completely innocent individuals who were caught in the crossfire.

What a big, complicated, and horrible mess these two are.

[siren-of-agony]

Answers to "please stop"

No.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't want to.

I don't know how.

I will soon.

But then how will you learn?

We're almost done.

It's almost over.

Ask me again!

Oh well, if you're asking that politely…

Fine. For now.

Only once I've come up with something more fun.

Only once you've come up with something more fun.

Or what?

I know you can go a little bit longer.

You know I won't.

I love it when you beg.

I hate it when you beg.

I'm so bored by your begging.

Not until you're too weak to ask me to.

But I don't have anything better to do.

I wish I could.

Alright! See? All you had to do was ask nicely.

I'm not doing anything.

What, exactly?

Just once more, I promise!

Just once more, I promise! (🤞)

You're doing this to yourself.

You wanted this.

You want this.

You know you made me do this.

Are you ready to give me what I want, then?

I will once you give in.

What will you give me in return?

Why should I?

You know there is only one way to end this.

You know there is only one way this will end.

(Answers to "it hurts")

[thelien-art]

frodo with the agender flag please?

I love Frodo he´s so headstrong!

I tried to make it clear that the ring has had some effect on him such as him looking younger but also a bit greyish and thinner

🏳️‍🌈CELEBRATE PRIDE WITH ME🏳️‍🌈 - send in a character or a ship with a pride flag and I´ll draw it

[xiaq]

I need you to understand that I went to a tiny conservative christian school K-12. My graduating class was 20 people. I thought I was the only queer one the whole time.

FOUR of the five girls I had crushes on through middle and high school are now out. FOUR of them. Bisexuals really are disasters.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: guns

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, gun kink, p in v sex, unprotected bc dont be fcking dumb!, hand kink as well kind of, f receiving oral and handjob, blowjob, being fucked by the gun (silencer), mild degradation but also praise, mentions of drug dealing, somehow still soft rafe idk yall im unable to write rafe being anything but a softie

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks

your eyes widen at the glint of black metal in the low lighting, watching the way rafe works the rag over the piece. you control your gasp when you realize what it is that you’re holding, but you can’t help but take a step back in shock.��

you stumble, not realizing how close you were to the hallway table that decorates your home. rafe looks up at the noise, his eyes meeting yours. you can’t tell what emotion crosses his face. he simply sets the handgun down on the coffee table, still partially disassembled.

“rafe-” you begin, but you don’t have the words to finish as he stands up, stalking over to you, his usually comforting figure suddenly imposing when shrouded in the darkness of night.

“baby.” rafe says softly, taking your face in his large hands. “what are you doing awake?” “i-i heard you come in, and i waited for you to come lay down and when you didn’t i came to check on you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of your house, rafe hears you clear as day. he stands still, and you take the moment to apologize, “i’m sorry.”

rafe lets out a deep breath, his face reading the guilt of your apology. “it’s okay.” he presses his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he holds you to him. it takes you a beat, but you wrap your arms around his waist in a tight embrace.

“come here.” rafe says after a moment, sliding his hand down your back and leading you into the living room instead of hiding in the hallway. you take cautious steps, eyes on the disassembled gun on the table. 

“sit down.” rafe keeps his voice gentle, but it’s a command, not a request. you sit down on the couch, and rafe slides next to you. he gives you a moment to look at the pieces of metal on the table. 

you know why rafe has a gun. he tries to keep that part of his life silent, but you know he helps run the drug scene on the islands of the outer banks. you’ve never been exposed to the violent nature of what he does but you’ve helped him count money and sort packages. he protects you when it comes to the actual sale, you haven’t even met one of his clients, at least not that you know of.

“it’s okay rafe, i knew you had a gun.” you say. you’ve seen him discreetly tuck it into his waistband when you’ve been out, and did not fail to notice the way he keeps it on his bedside table when he thinks it’s too dark for you to see at night.

“but you haven’t really seen it before baby.” rafe picks up what looks to be the frame of the gun, and he turns it over, showing you all the different sides before placing it on your lap. he gives a nod of your head and you pick it up, surprised that the disassembled part is still so heavy.

“should i- should i learn how to…?” you ask, not having the heart to tell him that you want to, because if anything happens to rafe, you want to be able to protect him as well, even though he doesn’t need it.

“if you want to, i’ll teach you.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, taking the metal back out of your hand. he begins to explain the different pieces of the gun and what they do as he reassembles it. your eyes track the movements of his hands, his slender fingers moving each part into place. you bite your lip and press your thighs together, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by rafe.

“are you turned on, princess?” he asks, no judgment in his voice, rather fascination from how you, his sweet girlfriend, can be so turned on by his gun as he sets it back down on the table.

“no!” you squeal, which just gives you away even more. “pants off.” rafe commands, and you know better than to go against him. you stand up off the couch for a millisecond to shove your pants down to your ankles then sit back down, keeping your thighs locked closed together.

“that is not what i meant, and you know it.” rafe commands, placing his hands on your waist and twisting you so you’re facing him. “if you’re not going to be good, i’m just going to have to do this myself.” he guides you backwards so you’re laying your head against the arm of the couch. he takes one ankle and slides it off the edge of the cushion while moving the other one to rest against the back of the couch, spreading you open wide.

“are you still going to deny being turned on?” he asks, eyes on your underwear sticking to your pussy, wet patch clearly visible.

you smartly decide to stay quiet, and rafe gives a little hum of approval at your choice to no longer continue to deny, knowing the amounts of pleasure he can bring you as he pushes his thumb over where he knows your clit is, not wasting any time as he rubs it over the material.

you let out a moan, back arching off the couch as he touches you. all tiredness you previously felt from suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is going.

rafe smiles down at you, seeing his girl so easily and quickly thrown into pleasure just with one of his fingers. he moves faster, watching the wet patch grow even bigger. he drags his thumb down, pressing against the spot until his thumb presses slightly into your hole, the fabric of your underwear still acting as a barrier.

“n-no, let me take them off, please.” you beg, but it doesn’t dissuade from doing exactly what you expected, gripping your underwear with both hands and literally tearing them straight down the center like the material was tissue paper. 

you grumble something about liking that pair, and rafe calms you by pressing a kiss to your knee that’s hooked over the side of the couch. “i’ll buy you another pair.”

he kisses down your thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until he reaches your cunt, taking a deep inhale of your scent before sticking his tongue out, lapping at your slickness as he gathers it all onto his tongue.

you try your best to keep your hips still, thighs already burning slightly from being spread so wide. you moan rafes name as his tongue slides up away from your hole and over your clit, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive bud before pulling back far too early.

you watch as rafe picks the gun up off the table, making your eyes go wide.

“my sweet princess, turned on by my gun.” he turns it over in his hand, and you don’t fail to notice that he’s left several parts on the table, probably whatever interior mechanism that makes it actually fire so his toying with it remains safe.

“who would have known that the innocent good girl i first starting dating would turn into such a slut?” he grabs the silencer off the table, slotting it onto the end of the gun. your eyes watch in fascination at his movements.

“my own personal whore. you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” rafe questions, running the tip of the silencer against your thigh, slowly dragging it closer to your center.

“you’d even let me fuck you with my gun.” his words make you gasp, coupled by the smooth metal of the silencer coming into contact with your dripping folds. it’s so cold that you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body.

rafe continues to move the silencer against you, partly to tease, partly to get it covered in your juices. “you’re gonna let me, right princess?”

rafe looks to you as you silently nod, worried if you open your mouth you’ll start to beg, beg for him to put the gun inside of you. rafe presses it against your hole, and your eyes widen at how big it feels, like two of his fingers are trying to enter you, but you’re slick enough that when you take a breath to relax, he’s able to push in, breaking the ring of your hole.

“fuck!” you whine, rafe not giving you any time to get used to the sensation as he continues pushing it inside of you, until the entire silencer is buried in your pussy, the barrel of the gun far too large to fit inside.

“just breathe.” rafe mumbles softly, wanting to continue but not wanting to hurt you. you follow his instructions, sliding your eyes closed as you get used to the foreign object.

when rafe can tell your body has calmed down, he pulls the gun out slightly, watching the way your wetness sticks to the metal before pushing it back inside of your body.

you lift your hips slightly to give some reprieve to your thigh muscles, as well as give rafe a better angle as he moves quicker, starting to thrust the gun against you.

his thumb comes back to your clit, now able to touch your bare skin and the pad of his finger feels burning hot compared to the coldness spreading from within you. rafe presses his thumb against you, keeping the intensity constant instead of rubbing. 

“there you go.” rafe smirks, “my good fucking slut.” 

his praise makes you glow, especially as your high starts to build from the way the silencer is pressing inside of you. the dirtiness of the action just pushes you even farther.

“gonna-” you warn, when suddenly rafes thumb is off your clit, the silencer halting all movement, lodged deep inside of you. 

“you ask permission to cum, slut.” rafe tells you, deciding to push you even harder.

“please, let me cum.” you beg, hands fisting the material of the couch.

“no.” rafe simply says, moving the gun again. “no, because my girl isn’t going to cum for some piece of metal. you’re going to wait until i’m done having my fun and then cum on my cock, understood?” “y-yes.” you nod, flopping your head against the couch as it repeatedly presses inside of you, your clit pulsating at the need to release everything you have inside.

“please.” you sob, feeling tears slide down your cheeks, unable to hold back your impending orgasm much longer.

rafe pulls the gun out of your, making your cry out, missing the sensation instantly. “no, no, rafe please.” you beg.

“shush!” he says, delivering a slap to your inner thigh. “if you were patient at all you’d realize i’m going to fuck you now.” you sit up, blinking your eyes open in the low lighting as rafe tugs his shirt over his head. you take the moment to unbutton your pajama top as you watch him stand, unbuttoning and sliding off his jeans and underwear at the same time.

your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, unable to control yourself as you sit up, giving your legs a reprieve from the stretch as you take him into your mouth, sucking the head of rafes cock as your eyes roll back in your head, tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue.

“can’t resist, can you?” rafe laughs, knowing how much of an oral fixation you have.

you hum around his cock, bobbing your head but not taking him anywhere near fully into your mouth, enjoying playing with the head of his cock with your tongue.

you kitten lick at his tip repetitively, waiting for rafe to inevitably pull you off to fuck you. he lets you have your fun for a bit longer before tapping the back of your head. 

you pull off with a satisfied smile, laying back and resuming the same position on the couch, spreading your cunt wide to show him that you’ve gotten even wetter from sucking him off.

“my pretty slut.” rafe smiles, kneeling on the couch between your legs. he grabs a throw pillow that was discarded onto the floor at some point, shoving it under your hips to raise your cunt up to the perfect angle to fuck.

rafe rubs his cock against you before jutting his hips forward, sinking fully into you in one fluid motion. you let out a curse, boobs bouncing as he immediately starts up a rhythm.

your cunt clenches tightly around him, rafes moans coming to match your own as he moves within you, feeling your tight walls, remembering that his gun was just where his cock currently is. 

he picks the gun up off the table, still gleaming with your slick. he sticks his tongue out, licking up the side. “you taste so good.” he moans, keeping his free hand on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts.

“want to taste yourself?” he asks, but doesn’t even give you a moment to respond before pressing the silencer against your tongue, mouth already open from moaning.

you wrap your lips around the metal, indeed tasting yourself on it. you suck at the gun, keeping your eyes on rafe as you do.

rafe moans, feeling his cock swell inside of you. he would keep fucking you all night, but he can’t hold himself back any longer as he moves faster, plunging as deep inside of you as he possibly can.

“fuck, please let me cum!” you cry out, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, your fingers not feeling as good as rafes, but doing the job.

“wait for me.” is all rafe can gasp out, watching you immediately take the gun back into your mouth after asking.

rafe lasts a few more hard thrusts before he’s releasing inside of you, and you follow quickly, rubbing yourself to completion as you feel your cunt flooding with cum.

rafe continues to gently thrust throughout your orgasms, both coming down together as he sets the gun back on the table. he collapses forward, his naked body pressing against your bare one.

“god, you really are the most perfect slut.” rafe mumbles, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, knowing his cum is going to leak all over the decorative pillow you’re sat on, liking the idea of ruining another piece of furniture from his insatiable need for you.

“love you.” you whisper, tilting your head to the side to give his hair a kiss.

rafe leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a fierce kiss, saying the words for him.

“why don’t you go upstairs and wait for me, sweetheart?” he asks, sitting up and giving you a hand to help you sit as well, your body burning as the exhaustion sets back in. “i’ll be up in a minute, i have to clean my gun again because someone got it all dirty.”

[bubblybloob]

Beast, no, that’s not a kitten, that’s a full grown woman who lives in a bush-

[justaz]

arthur has always been suspicious of the tavern excuse for merlin’s absences, but he has no proof on the contrary and when confronted merlin either tells him outlandish tales of near death experiences that have no chance of being remotely truthful or he admits to and apologizes for slacking on his duties to get drunk. one day, he decides enough is enough and he and all the knights go to the tavern with merlin and arthur casually brings up merlin’s history in the tavern and says he could probably beat gwaine in a drinking contest. merlin tries to divert the discussion away from the idea but arthur is determined. they receive a round of drinks and arthur pushes a pint of ale into merlin’s hands with a look of challenge. merlin’s options are to either commit to the lie to hide his secret or admit to the lie and risk exposing his magic. he takes the former. merlin gives lancelot a Look and then slams back the pint of ale with a minor bit of gagging and pauses to breath. gwaine already finished his pint thirty seconds ago but its entertaining to watch merlin so he doesn’t say anything.

merlin (built like a twig, rarely drinks, lightweight) is proper sloshed. arthur is almost vindicated but he needs merlin to admit it. he orders two more pints and gives one to gwaine and the second to merlin, instigating the competition further despite the fact that gwaine won already. merlin grimaces and tries to do the same thing again but only gets a few gulps in before he folds. he slams the mug down and gives arthur a kicked puppy look before admitting and apologizing for lying. arthur is Vindicated. merlin is still wasted.

the nights wears on and merlin feels the effect of the ale more and more every minute that passes. he sits between arthur and lancelot and feels almost unbearably warm but that could be bc of the alcohol in his system, or the crowded tavern. merlin looks around and watches the people that pass their table by while the knights talk and joke and laugh amongst themselves. merlin feels relaxed and excitable now, his worries seem to have melted away and he cant seem to remember why he was always so stressed and worn down before. he sees a game of [insert game here] (i was gonna say darts but google says that game hasn’t been invented in canon time so ill leave it up to interpretation) going on and climbs over lancelot to join in.

the knights watch with amusement and anticipate merlin’s clumsy attempts at [whatever]. oddly enough tho, merlin is a fucking god at [game]. a small crowd gathers and betting pools form and then challengers approach and put money on the line to go against merlin and merlin absolutely demolishes them all. honestly if arthur didn’t know any better, he’d think merlin was using magic to win bc there was no way his bumbling fool of a servant was that good at…anything.

the challengers take their defeat with honor and grace. the audience is a huge fan of merlin and they keep buying him drinks but he just sends them to the table for the other’s to drink. many people come up to him and flirt, maybe motivated by all the money he won that night or maybe just bc he’s merlin, and when merlin responds to them he’s………..he’s a real good fucking flirt? like could put gwaine to shame and he’s rejecting them???? how can someone come across so flirtatiously while turning down offers to take various beautiful people to bed??

arthur was already itching to intervene when people were flirting with merlin but he seemed to have a handle on it so he let it slide, but then people started touching merlin and arthur’s hand had drifted to his hip where his sword was usually sheathed. however, again, merlin was very skilled at escaping the situations with little to no conflict and he came back to the table with his winnings. the knights cheer for him and order more drinks with his money which merlin is too inebriated to notice and truthfully doesn’t really care about. his eyes are on arthur and if arthur thought watching merlin flirt from afar was bad then having him up close in his personal space, hands brushing against his arms and dark eyelashes fluttering softly against his pale skin, breathing his name into the space between them and licking his full pink lips was absolute torture and the worst and best agony he couldn’t even dream up.

[feyhunter78]

Tourney Injuries and a Proposal

Description: While you and Helaena are watching the tourney, your former betrothed injures Aemond.

You sit beside Helaena watching as the knights galloped at each other, their lances shattering each other’s shields, one knocking the other from his horse.

“I just don’t understand the appeal of these things.” You said, grimacing as an agonized scream rang out from below.

“I believe the displays of strength are considered quite attractive.” Helaena said, her eyes searching the men standing on the sidelines. “Oh, there’s Aemond, in the black armor.”

You stood and rushed to the railing as he stepped into the ring, burying your hands in your skirts, your heart pounding against your chest like dragon wings in a storm.

He noticed you and made his way over, confidence in every step that brought him closer to you. “Fair Lady y/n, might I request your favor?” He called up to you, a playful smirk on his lips.

You threw your handkerchief down to him, and he caught it, pressing it to his lips before tucking it in his pocket

“Good luck, my prince.” You said, eyes filled with fear.

Aemond never entered tourneys, claimed they were a worthless waste of time, but after your former betrothed, a young lord from House Tully had insulted you, Aemond suddenly found them worth his time.

He patted his pocket. “I don’t need luck, when I have the favor of the most beautiful maiden in all the realm to protect me.”

You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m honored by your words, Prince Aemond.”

He reentered the ring, and you returned to your seat.

“It seems that Aemond is going against Lord Tybalt.” Helaena said, a tinge of worry in her lilting voice.

You grabbed her hand, stomach churning. “No. This will not end well.”

Tybalt was your former betrothed, a strong man, he had a nasty temper, and no fear of striking those who angered him.

Aemond himself had saved you from Tybalt’s anger when the Tully lord had caught you both in what looked to be a compromising position, but really was a misunderstanding.

You’d been sitting under the Godswood with Aemond when a spider dropped from the tree and made its way beneath your gown’s neckline.

In your panic, you shrieked at Aemond to get rid of it, and he sliced open your bodice with his dagger, plucking the spider and flicking it away from you.

Tybalt walked in on Aemond’s hand gripping the shredded fabric of your bodice, his other hand on your waist as he tried to calm you.

You watched with bated breath as the two men circled each other. Tybalt was snarling something at Aemond and your grip on Helaena’s hand tightened when he lunged.

Aemond easily dodged his blade before returning the blow.

They went back and forth, and once it seemed Aemond was to win, you relaxed, taking your eyes away from the match.

Gasping and a frightened scream made you whip your head back to the duel.

Tyblat collapsed Aemond’s sword through his abdomen, but Aemond was kneeling in the sand, his hands covering his face.

“Y/n, wait.” Helaena yelled, as you bolted out of your seat and down the stairs.

The maesters were already ushering Aemond to their tent, and you followed behind them, fear gripping your lungs.

You pushed aside the fabric to see Aemond surrounded by maesters. “Aemond—”

“Out, everyone out.” He ordered, pushing the maseters away from him with his free hand.

They scurried out, but you stayed put.

“Someone remove Lady y/n.” He shouted, turning his face from you.

You elbowed the maester who tried to grab you and rushed up to Aemond cupping his face. “Aemond, are you hurt? Let me see.”

He tried to shake you off, but you stood your ground.

Aemond removed his hand slowly, and you sucked in a breath.

“I’m hideous, I’m aware.” He growled.

You picked up a clean cloth and dipped it in the nearby bowl of water, gently bringing it to his face. “Hideous? My prince, you are more beautiful than the sun setting over the Narrow Sea.”

He looked at you warily, but allowed you to dab at the cut on his face. “It’s not very deep, does it hurt?” You asked, quietly apologizing when he hissed in pain. “I feel responsible, I should have tried harder to explain the situation to Tybalt, but…”

“But?” He echoed, his hand resting on your hip.

You wrung the cloth out before re-wetting it. “I have no real answer for him that would quell his anger. I can’t lie, and say I'm not fond of you, or that I didn’t wish that perhaps your gaze could have fallen upon my skin in a more intimate setting.” You admitted, not meeting his eye.

“He was the fool who tried to take out my eye, not you. You were merely the victim of a spider.” He chuckled. “Besides, his aim was terrible, he got the wrong eye.”

“Well, I’m glad it is, I don’t know what I’d do if you were injured because of me.” You said softly, focused on your task.

His hand caught your wrist. “Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked worriedly, dropping the cloth back in the water.

He shook his head and his hand slid behind your neck, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against yours, his violet eye flickering up to yours.

You rested your hand on his chest and leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.

His free hand grasped your waist as he spread his legs, pulling you flush against him. “Marry me.” He breathed against your lips, his thumb caressing the nape of your neck.

“Truly?” You asked, praying to The Seven, this wasn't a cruel jest.

He nodded, sapphire glinting in the low light. “Allow me to make your wish come true.”  He connected your lips in a heated kiss, lips pulling you under, the taste of peppermint and mead intoxicating your sense, his scent of leather, and dragon surrounding you.

 His grip on you tightened as you returned the kiss eagerly, your fingers gripping his tunic, as you let out a small whimper.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You smiled into the kiss and giggled when he stood and swept you off your feet.

He kissed you once more, leaving you breathless and dizzy with joy as he carried you out of the tent and towards the stands where his mother sat.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, and requests are open right now!!!!

[wittymumbledon]

Hello! Hey, would you be so kind to draw young stanford and young fiddleford as space cowboys?

(Here's some refs that show a bit better what I wanted ya to go for)

I love 19th century clothes in all their varieties and I love retro scifi (wouldn't have started my comic if I didn't fhdhjdhjdfhj) - and clearly i've been aching for more cowboy art (and for another excuse to draw college era fidds) - cause this was really fun HGDFGHDGH

Hope I did your idea justice!

[vynnyal]

This is a pretty good point in the wip to share this, methinks :]

Map part for the hole dwelling map, starring... Not my ocs! I wanted to use ocs, but I don't have any-- so I just used the characters from a fic I was reading at the time 😂

Turns out, the symbolism was so much fun to twist into the 11 seconds I had to work with, I ended up going way more complex than I meant to. If you wanna read the fic this was based on, please do!! And tell the author I said hi! :D

[kkoct-ik]

part one of my big requests bundle! and a cobbed together bonus panel. as a treat

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

guys please pray for me